It is never a good sign when it’s only 11:00 in the morning and you’ve already been seventeen kinds of crazy.

It all started with the alarm clock…the stupid, stupid alarm clock. I must have accidentally turned it off last night, unless even my subconscious shares the opinion that 6AM is a patently ridiculous time and I just slapped the darn thing silent this morning mid-snore and then went right back to bed. I wouldn’t put it past me. But that is bad– very, very bad, people, because the eldest son needs to be out of this house at 7:00— so at 7:20 when Miss Teen Wonder frantically shook us awake, we were already screwed.

Because OF COURSE this was a morning that Hubby had the car AND I don’t know if you noticed, but it was a zillion degrees below zero out there this morning. Okay, fine. Two, two degrees below zero. Which is about forty degrees colder than I feel comfortable sending the kids out in. But we had no choice. Shrieking “Get ready!!! Get ready!!” at approximately the same volume and frequency as a World War II air raid siren, I ran to the computer, found the appropriate city bus schedules, scrounged for spare change for the fare, forcibly zipped up elder son’s coat, squashed a hat on his head (Two degrees below zero. TWO!) and shoved him out the door.

Okay. At this point I am frazzled, I am anxious, but full-blown crazy doesn’t hit for another minute. That’s how long it takes before I have visions of my darling, but day-dreamy boy wandering onto the wrong bus mid-trip and being transported to downtown Minneapolis, without a cell phone, without a clue how to get home where he will no doubt be abducted and murdered, if he doesn’t freeze to death first.

Like a shot, I am out the door, running down the block in my polka-dot pajamas like a lunatic. Luckily, the cold slapped me to my senses. Or at least caused my self preservation instincts to kick in. Dang! It was cold! (Two below zero! TWO!) Faced with the very real possibility that I would freeze to death myself, I decided to let boy-child fend for himself. Eh. They have to grow up sometime.

Who needs a nap?

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The Rise & Fall of a Momocracy

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